Edward Cullen and the Giant Between the Stacks
by LyricalKris
Summary: It was just another day as the friendly neighborhood librarian when someone reported a "predator" in the children's section. The giant Edward found there was intimidating, but the only thing he was interested in was his book. Potterheads come in all shapes and sizes, and this one came with a certain charm Edward found impossible to ignore.
1. Chappy 1

**A/N: So, Mina and Packy requested this one. It's going to be a drabble story. I have a nice cushion on this one, so we'll see how that goes.**

* * *

Edward was doing his best to help an elderly man compose his first email when the woman first tried to get his attention.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, ma'am."

"This can't wait."

He had to struggle not to roll his eyes. A quick glance confirmed what he suspected. He knew the type who thought their concern or desire had to be the most important thing in his world. "I'm with this gentleman here, but if you'll give me a moment—"

Her voice became loud and shrill. "There is a predator in the children's section. If you can't be bothered to care, I can just call the police. In fact, I should have done that from moment one."

Edward straightened up. He had the urge to call her bluff. Sure. Call the police. See what happened. He could only imagine the shrieking she'd do then.

Deciding it wasn't worth the headache—and that it was a good idea to check out her claim just in case she was right to be concerned—Edward straightened up. "I'll get our intern to come over and give you a hand, okay?"

The man winked, smiling ruefully. "You take your time, son."

Edward kept an eye out over the woman's shoulder as she went on about the "monster" lurking in the kid's section, and how there was no way a "man like that" could be up to anything good. He wasn't there with any little ones.

Spotting the intern, Bella, Edward gestured to her. He pointed at the old man and his emails before turning to give the irritated woman a placating smile. "Okay, ma'am, I'll check it out."

The children's section of the library had plenty of brightly colored nooks littered with comfy places to read. As could be expected, all the furniture was miniature-sized to fit its typical occupants. That made the sight in front of Edward more hilarious than frightening.

Sure enough, a monster of a man—if monster could be taken as meaning merely large—had folded himself onto one of the tiny couches. His knees came up to his chest, and it couldn't have been that comfortable, but he seemed far too engrossed in his book to care about things like comfort.

Edward could see why the woman leapt to the conclusion she had. Not only was the man huge, but he was littered with tattoos and piercings. For Edward, it only made him more intrigued, but there were a good amount of people who thought ink and holes made a person bad.

Although, studying a few of his tattoos, Edward had to concede it might behoove him to err on the side of caution. The lines of some of them weren't as straight as others, as though they were done crudely. There could be a lot of reasons for this, not the least of which was that they could have been done in prison.

Still, the man was obviously in a world of his own. He had the cutest smile—a cute smile on a big bear of a man, what even was that?—curling his lips as he flipped pages. Edward was even more bemused to see it was a Harry Potter book that had him so entranced. That explained what he was doing in the kid's section anyway.

Edward was strongly inclined not to bother the man who didn't look to him like he was doing anything creepy. But the woman who'd made the complaint had followed him. He had to hope a polite question would appease her without insulting him. To that end, Edward cleared his throat.

The man looked up, blinking startled, blue-gray eyes. His gaze darted down and quickly back up. Then, his smile turned into a full-fledged grin, dimple and all. Edward's breath caught.

"Hi," the man said.

"Hey," Edward said. Then he winced and shook his head, remembering what the hell he was here to do. "Oh, uh. Right." He cleared his throat, mentally admonishing himself to get a grip. "I just wanted to make sure you know that we have reading nooks all around the library. Some of them might be a little more comfortable."

The man's wide grin turned into a smirk as he glanced over Edward's shoulder. "What you mean is, some people would be more comfortable if I was out of sight, out of mind."

"I—"

The man waved a hand as he got to his feet. In spite of himself, Edward stepped backward. Not because he was scared, but because the man was tall. Tall and broad. His hair shorn a little too short for Edward's taste, but no one had asked him anyway.

"It's okay. I'm used to it," the man said, and he sounded as though he meant it.

"Sir, I—"

"Whoa. Sir?" He laughed. "Seriously, it's okay. I just got excited. I've been trying to get my hands on this book for three years."

Before he could school his reaction, Edward's eyebrows shot up. "Three years?" The Harry Potter books had all been out forever. It wasn't exactly hard to get ahold of them.

The man looked rueful. "I'll move to the other section," he said again. He was moving before Edward could manage to get another word out and was out of sight in another heartbeat, though not before winking at the woman who'd complained.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks, as always, to Packy, Mina, Betsy, Eleanor, and MoH.**

 **So! Thoughts so far?**


	2. Chappy 2

**A/N: I'm glad you guys are already having fun!**

 **You can blame Mina for the chapter names. She thinks it's funny that I use chappy instead of chapter when I'm writing in Google docs. :-p So I promised I would leave the designation.**

* * *

Two days later, Edward was wheeling a cart of returns back to the How-to section when a big shape drew his attention. He stopped and stepped back slowly one step, two, three.

Yep. The tattooed Potterhead was back. He was draped over the entirety of one couch, engrossed as he had been two days before reading _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stare?" the man said without looking up from his book.

It took Edward a second to figure out he'd actually spoken, and it wasn't just his internal monologue. He started, looked over his shoulder anyway, and back again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you, sir."

"There's that sir again. Whenever you say that, I try to find the Dom in the library." He finally looked up to flash him a devilish grin.

Edward opened his mouth to volley back something filthy, remembered he was at work, in a library no less, and snapped it shut again. "I, uh. I'm sorry I disturbed you," he said again, blushing at his own lameness.

"I said you were staring, not disturbing." The stranger straightened up. "So? I guess the next question is who am I disturbing?"

"No one."

The stranger cocked his head, and there was something in his smile then that stoked a flame low in Edward's gut. And that… It had been a while. For good reason.

A cold sweat sent nerves down his spine.

"So, you were just staring," the man said, his tone rife with suggestion.

"I…" Edward's throat closed. "I have to put these away." He nodded at the cart.

"Yeah." The stranger's face fell. "Hey, I was just giving you a hard time."

"I know."

"Really, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." Edward swallowed hard. "I'll let you get back to your book."

This time, it was Edward who ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

* * *

 **A/N: Hmmm…**


	3. Chappy 3

**A/N: I'm enjoying this. I'm glad you are too!**

* * *

Edward obsessed over what had happened with the tattooed stranger for hours. He lost sleep over it, turning every second over and over again in his head.

He'd overreacted. He was good at that, but he hated how such a small interaction had shaken him to his core. He hated his fear, especially because there was no concrete reason for it. The man was teasing him. Flirting with him.

And that… That was another question all together. And yet another reason why Edward was driving himself crazy. As a gay man, the stereotypes of what being gay was supposed to look like drove him up the wall. In spite of all that, the first thought that went through his mind when the stranger looked at him with that glint in his eyes was that a man like that—big, rough around the edges, almost certainly a former inmate—couldn't possibly be gay.

Which, there was still no guarantee he was gay just because he was flirty. A lot of people were naturally flirtatious. He could still be a straight man, secure in his sexuality.

Either way, he didn't know what to make of it except to promise himself that if the stranger came back, he wouldn't be scared.

Of course, it would help if the stranger didn't go out of his way to scare the hell out of him.

Edward was at the check out desk; his head turned as he watched a pair of troublemakers snickering in the corner, when someone pounded on the counter. Hard. Edward jumped a mile and then jumped again when he turned his head and found the tattooed man's face a couple of inches from his as he leaned all the way over.

"Dude. You have to help me."

Edward struggled to maintain his composure, gripping the arms of his chair tight enough that his nails started to dig in. He cleared his throat, trying to force the lump out of his throat so he could answer. "Of course. What do you need, s— Um."

The man's serious expression faded as his lips quirked. He straightened up, thankfully backing out of Edward's personal space. "Emmett."

"What?"

"That's my name. Emmett. As opposed to sir." He furrowed his brow. "Though, really, you don't even have to add a name. 'What do you need' is a full sentence, and depending on your tone, it's perfectly polite as is."

Edward pressed his lips together hard to keep from smiling. There was something oddly adorable about this guy. "Well. How can I help you?"

"See? That's even more polite." He sighed. "I can't find book four. And I need it, man. I need it bad."

"Book four. _Goblet of Fire_ you mean?"

"Yes. I need it, and it's not where it should be on the shelf. This is a big library, but I swear I'll tear it apart to find this book."

It came out more endearing than threatening, and Edward had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his grin in check. "Well, I hope that won't be necessary, because I'm the one who has to clean that mess up." He turned to his computer and clacked. He noticed that Emmett seemed to be honest-to-god bouncing on his feet. Edward frowned. "Well."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid our three copies are checked out right now."

"What?" Dismay colored Emmett's face. His whole body contorted as he made some kind of lamenting motion. "No. No, man. They were there. One of them was there just yesterday. I saw it."

"You know, for the record, there are seven Harry Potter books, and you are allowed to borrow ten books at a time."

Emmett had turned around and was currently leaning with his back against the counter, his arms crossed as he stared at an unfixed point in the distance, clearly grappling with disappointment. "I can't do that," he muttered. "They'd probably get stolen."

"Stolen?"

"Oh." Emmett turned around, glancing at him and rubbing the back of his neck. He gave a nervous laugh and shrugged. "I live in a halfway house right now."

"I...oh."

The man smiled. It seemed sad. "You want me out of the library?"

Edward furrowed his brow. "Why would I want that?"

"You don't think I'm dangerous?"

"Are you?"

Emmett scoffed. "Well, I'm probably the most biased person in the world when it comes to me, so…" When Edward met his eyes he sighed and answered seriously. "No. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Well. Aside from tearing apart the library if you can't have book four."

His grin bounced back. "Dude. You have no idea how long I've waited."

"Three years, you said."

Emmett's face fell again, and that was when Edward put the pieces together. Three years. Probably the length of his sentence. "I didn't… I mean, that's not what I meant. I…"

"It's okay," Emmett said, his voice soft. "I never got around to reading them when I was too busy being the world's worst student in school. Then, the prison library had the first two books, and some of the others. Maybe all of the others. I wouldn't know. I started reading and had to stop."

"Couldn't skip ahead?"

"Naw. That's cheating."

Edward smiled and nodded. He stood up. "Come with me."

He led Emmett over to media section of the library, found _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ in amongst the books on tape and then moved to one of the listening stations. He handed the Audiobook to Emmett and gestured. "You can choose one of the nooks if you want to just listen." He indicated the listening nooks, which all had large and comfortable chairs or sofas to chill in, and headphones with long cords. "Or, if you prefer to be doing something with your hands, you can use one of the computer stations to listen. Just check out a set of headphones from Bella over there," he pointed to his favorite intern.

Emmett's gleeful expression made him look like an oversized kid. "Storytime? Jesus, no one's read me a book since I was in kindergarten. Thanks, man."

"Edward."

"What?"

"That's my name. Edward."

"Edward." Emmett nodded. "Thanks."

"It's what I do."

* * *

 **A/N: Hehe.**

 **This is fun.**


	4. Chappy 4

**A/N: Zzzzz. Sleepy Kris is sleepy. Zzzzz**

* * *

"Dude."

Edward's head turned at the sound of the exclamation—loud in the quiet library. He had to hide a smile.

Emmett was back for a fifth day and, having found the book had not been returned, went back to his listening station. He sat in the chair, hands propped behind his head, showing off an array of muscles and tattoos—not that Edward had noticed—with a far-off look on his face and a furrow at his brow. As Edward watched, Emmett's eyes bugged out. He pitched forward, feet flat on the ground. "Dude!"

Even though he was facing forward, Emmett didn't seem to see him as Edward approached. His hands gripped his head now. "Oh, man. Oh, man."

Edward braced his hands on both side of his chair, giving him a small shake. Emmett's eyes snapped to his. He pushed to his feet so fast, and he was so large, that Edward stumbled back to keep from colliding with him. He lost his balance and started to tumble backward.

"Whoa!" Emmett grabbed him, hauling him forward.

All the breath left Edward's lungs as though he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He supposed that was what happened when one ran face first into a wall, which Emmett's hard chest beneath his hands may as well have been made of stone. But, if he was being honest with himself, he'd have admitted it probably had more to do with the fact he found, in that instant, he liked the feel of Emmett's broad, strong body against his. He liked it a lot. And when he looked up, finding Emmett's blue-gray eyes on his, a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Sorry," they both said, Emmett letting go of him as Edward stumbled a few steps back.

"I shouldn't have been that close," Edward said, rubbing the back of his neck. His face felt hot. "Just...you were getting loud."

Emmett took the over-large headphones off, hanging them around his neck as what looked suspiciously like a lascivious grin pulled at his lips. "So, me being loud makes you want to get closer?"

Edward smirked, but Emmett put his hands up. "Whoa. That wasn't library safe. Sorry, man."

"I don't know. Sometimes having to be quiet makes it that much more exciting," Edward quipped before he could bite his tongue.

The air around them seemed to spark with electricity and fire as they stared at each other, each assessing. Emmett opened his mouth and shut it. The heat rising on Edward's cheeks got the better of him. "Anyway. You were…" he tapped his ears.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Sorry about that. I was into it. It's going _down_ right now. Voldemort v. Harry in a cemetery, because that's where you gotta go when you want to disinter your dear ol' dad's corpse. How fucked up is that? Hands are being chopped off. A _kid_ is dead. Intense stuff, and this is supposed to be for children?" He gestured at the computer. "I figure Harry gets out of it okay because he's in the other books, right?"

Edward arched an eyebrow.

"Right. Spoilers. Anyway. I'll be quiet." He ducked his head, a hint of a grin at his lips. "Just like you like it."

There was a lot Edward could have said just then. A number of things about his versatility in the noise spectrum came to mind, but there were a bunch of kids making a mess of the stacks across the library. "Enjoy," he said, hurrying off to do his job.

When he looked again, as promised, Emmett was silent. He was gesticulating wildly, mouthing what Edward was sure were the words, "what the fuck," over and over again, but he was dead quiet.

Edward had to admit to himself he was charmed.

* * *

 **A/N: You know Emmett is the kind to talk in the movie theater.**


	5. Chappy 5

**A/N: I wasn't going to update again so soon, but Mina made me this pretty banner. LOOKIT. It's so pretty.**

* * *

Edward did a double take when he saw Emmett again.

First of all...the man was in a suit. It was an ill-fitting suit, at least a size too large in the shoulders, which was saying something, but still. Suit. And a tie—loose and rumpled though it was now.

Edward had a good imagination and one that often ran away with him at that. Like just then, he could imagine holding out an appropriately sized suit jacket, helping the other man slide into it. He could imagine doing a better knot on his tie, sliding it up, and smoothing it down against his broad chest. He…

He shook his head hard. Damn overactive imagination. Emmett was on his mind too much, that was all. And really, that didn't mean anything. Yes, he was attractive, but a lot of people were. He was also interesting. He was also…

Sad. Really, really sad.

The expression was profoundly wrong on a man usually so jovial and animated. He was back at the listening station, his body turned and his feet propped on a second chair. His face was slack. His eyes dead. His expression so far away, he didn't seem to see Edward even though he was right in front of him.

Edward stood still right next to his foot and still Emmett stared right through him. Feeling awkward now—but too concerned to walk away—Edward tapped his scuffed dress shoes.

Emmett blinked, his eyes focusing for the first time on Edward. He put his feet on the floor and sat up. When he smiled, it was a shaky thing—as though he was still mostly startled. "Oh. Hey."

"Hi." Edward studied him a moment, surprised to see what seemed like genuine misery in his otherwise pretty eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Sure." Emmett seemed to make an effort to sit up straighter, bringing his hunched shoulders back and flashing a grin as he pulled the headphones down to hang around his neck. "Just marinating in teenage angst. Frustrated for our pal, Harry."

Edward tried to remind himself he shouldn't be sticking his big nose in other people's business, but his mouth was moving before he could stop it. "What's wrong really?"

For a second, it looked like Emmett was going to feign ignorance. Edward would have let him, but then the other man's shoulders slumped and he hunched forward. "Nice of you to ask, but you don't have to worry about me." He ducked his head and rubbed his neck. "I'm an ex-con. I don't get to feel sorry for myself, and that's all it is, really."

Edward sat in the chair Emmett had propped his feet up on before. "I think that's a bunch of bullshit. You're still a human being. You didn't give that up."

"Yeah, but you don't have to care."

Edward grinned. "I don't have to do anything I don't want to do."

"Hey, that's a fair point, isn't it?" Emmett smiled, looking sheepish. "It's really not…" He scoffed, his mouth thinning to a hard line. "You said the keyword. Human. It's like this stupid, stupid thing I did makes me less than human."

He shook his head, rolling his eyes upward. "I had another job interview today. It's always the same shit. I'm doing well." He looked to Edward and winked. "I don't know if you noticed, but I can be a charming mother trucker when I want to be."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Edward deadpanned, ignoring the shiver that went down his spine.

"Sure." Emmett's smile faded. "So, I got them hooked, thinking I'm the greatest, and then that line. Have you ever been convicted of a felony. This won't disqualify you from the position. Ha. My ass." He waved a hand out. "And that's all it takes. Suddenly, you can tell by the look in their eyes that I'm the scum of the earth—dirt under their shoe."

"It's a big problem," Edward said, his tone gentle. "The revolving door. You pay your debt to society, but no one will let you rejoin it. And to make matters worse, you probably have classes and court costs you're required to pay. If you don't pay them, you're right back in prison. Right?"

Emmett blinked at him, eyes wide. "That's… Yeah. Yeah, exactly."

Edward nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. "There's a lot of injustice in the world. Prisons. Healthcare. Schools. There are a bunch of things that shouldn't be privatized. I don't think you're exempt from being taken advantage of just because you committed a crime. I think it makes you part of a vulnerable population in a way."

For a moment, Emmett's lips seemed to do a weird kind of wave. Then, he burst out laughing. It was a big, booming laugh that drew the attention—and the glares—of several of the other patrons. "Vulnerable. Yeah, that's…" He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "No one's ever described me as vulnerable."

Edward shrugged. "It is what it is."

"Yeah."

They stared at each other a beat, and Edward, for the rest of his life, would never understand what possessed him to say the next thing. "Hey, so...there's this thing. They're going to play the first Harry Potter movie in the park on a huge screen. If you wanted…"

Emmett's eyes about bulged out of his head. "Are you…" He choked on a laugh. "Are you asking me out? Like a date?"

Edward's face went red. His heart began to pound, and a wave of dizzy panic washed over him at the word. "No. No, I… I…"

"Whoa." Emmett reached out, putting a hand on Edward's elbow. "Easy. You look like you're going to puke. I get if I misread you, but I'm not that bad looking, am I?"

"It's not you." Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady his breath. "I don't date. Not anymore." He winced and closed his eyes, hoping Emmett wouldn't ask questions.

"Oh. Okay. So, Harry Potter in the park as friends, then?"

Edward counted to five and slowly opened his eyes. "Yes. Exactly. Just for fun." It would be outdoors, and there would be a lot of people all around them.

Emmett nodded, his look curious but his smile genuine. "Yeah. That would be awesome."

* * *

 **A/N: Just a couple of friends hanging out, right?**


	6. Chappy 6

A/N: Okay, so… I accidentally posted two chapters as one last night. My apologies to the people who have already read this!

* * *

Toward the end of the afternoon, Emmett reappeared at Edward's desk. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "So, this Potter in the Park thing. It's toward night?"

"Dusk. Yeah," Edward said. "Early evening."

"Yeah." Emmett rolled his eyes and tried to smile but didn't quite pull it off. "So. The halfway house? We kind of have a curfew."

"Oh. Oh, yeah." In retrospect, that seemed obvious. "Well. Shit."

A mother going by with her young children narrowed her eyes and hurried them along. Emmett guffawed. "Uh oh. You busted out the adult words." He shrugged. "Hey, but thanks for the invite. I, uh…" He smirked, and when he looked up, there was something devastatingly vulnerable in his eyes. "It felt human."

Under normal circumstances, Edward was an overthinker. He planned carefully. Spontaneity was his enemy.

So when he opened his mouth, even he was surprised at what came out. "Are there rules against visiting someone's house?"

Emmett blinked at him, and Edward felt his cheeks go hot at the same time a chill went down his spine. His skin went clammy, and he took a step back.

"Whoa. Hey." Emmett put a steadying hand on his arm but stepped away quickly, hands up. "Don't worry. You want to walk that back?"

Irritated by his unreasonable panic, Edward closed his eyes. He shook his head, breathing in and out. "No." He grimaced as he opened his eyes again. "No, I meant what I said. It's…" He rolled his shoulders as though he could shake off the residual fear. "It's not you." Another deep breath, and he could look Emmett in the eyes again. The concern he read there was sweet. Embarrassing, but sweet.

"You had a bad date, " Emmett said, not asking. "Before."

In spite of himself, Edward shuddered. He nodded. "Really bad date." He blew out another breath and shook his head. "But this isn't a date anyway. Just relocating an event. If you want."

Emmett's eyes went wide. Then, he laughed. "Shit, I feel like a teenager being asked to prom." He held a hand out, palm up. "Not like that. Just, I don't know. Is this how you friend?"

Edward laughed. He might be intimidating as hell, but this man was endearing. "It's just too big of a tragedy. Someone not seeing Harry Potter at your age."

Emmett grinned, but then his face grew serious. "If you're really comfortable… that would be cool."

High school. That was the last time Edward had felt so bashful about asking someone to come over. Then again, high school was the last time anyone he'd known had a curfew.

"Cool," he said, feeling goofy and strangely….

Excited?

Just because he had a few Pinterest ideas that would finally be put to use. That was all.

* * *

A/N: Harry Potter party incoming!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Last update of 2018!**

* * *

"What are you up to there, boss?"

Edward glanced up at Bella and quickly back down to his work. He'd printed out six fancy-looking wings and was cutting them out of the sheet of paper as carefully as he could. "I'm making Golden Snitches," he said, referring to the tiny, gold, flying balls that were part of the wizard sport Quidditch in the Harry Potter world. "Pretty clever, see? You just have to glue these wings onto a Ferrero Rocher for a delicious, Harry Potter-themed treat."

"And all this?" Bella pointed to the stack of cream-colored card stock and battery-operated tea lights.

"Floating candles."

"This sounds great. The kids are going to flip."

"The kids?" Edward put down the paper he'd been working on, his glance darting toward her and quickly away when he realized his mistake.

Bella cocked her head, looking at him in a way that had his cheeks burning. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay. I shouldn't be working on things for a private party at work."

"You're throwing a Harry Potter party?" Bella's eyes were so bright. "Where's my invite? Ooh, tell me you're sending it via owl. I know how to make an owl out of balloons."

Edward pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, struggling to find words. Bella's smile fell. "Oh. Ohhh. It's a private party. For two." She grinned. "It's not that big, handsome, bruiser-bear who's been hanging around, is it?"

"It's not…I'm...When…" Edward shook his head hard. "Whoa. Words."

Bella giggled. "Oh, man. How did I miss this? You have it bad."

"I don't...have anything," Edward sputtered. "You just caught me off guard. I should have invited you. You love Harry Potter."

"You still could invite me." Her tone was sly. "You just don't want to. Because this is a date Potter party."

"It's not a date. He and I...it's not like that." Edward was annoyed by how hot his cheeks were. "It's just that if I invite you, I have to throw a real party. Because you don't know each other so it can't be just friends hanging out. So I'd have to make it bigger, and I don't know how he would feel about that."

Bella was staring at him with a grin he didn't at all like. A shit-eating grin his southern brother-in-law would say. "You're babbling, boss."

He scowled. "Am not."

"So, you're throwing a Harry Potter for two. As bros. Just two dudes being dudes."

"He's never seen Harry Potter. That should be corrected."

Bella raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I'm with you." She paused a beat. "And your lame excuses." Another beat as she grinned and he glared. "Do you want me to show you how to make the balloon owls? And I can make the invitation if you want. I'm good at the Harry Potter script. You know, like on the school acceptance letters?"

He stared at her. It felt rude to let her help when he was refusing to invite her.

Why was he refusing to invite her?

"It's really okay," Bella said. "I love doing things like this, and it's slow around here today."

Edward huffed out a breath. "That would be really great." He swallowed hard. "There are eight movies. There will be more parties. I'll invite you next time, maybe after you guys get to know each other a little better."

She pressed her lips together, obviously trying to suppress another one of those shit-eating grins. "Sure. That sounds great." She paused a moment, but obviously, she couldn't help herself. "He's really hot. Looks like he can just pick you up and—" She made a lewd gesture.

His cheeks flamed. "Bella!"

She cackled.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll put pictures of the Harry Potter stuff in my group as Jaina permits. (Jaina is my daughter, and she doesn't like to sleep more than ten minutes at a time during the day. Yikes!)**

 **Happy New Year to you and yours. May 2019 bring us all good times. Thank you for another year of your support and your kind words. They make my life so much better.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllllllllooooo, duckies. (I totally sang that to the tune of Hello, Dolly hehehe).**

* * *

"Dude."

Edward raised an eyebrow, trying not to fidget as he watched Emmett stare at the invitation he'd been handed. His name and address—between the stacks of the library—were written, as promised, in the Harry Potter script. The envelope was attached to a balloon owl.

"Dude," Emmett said again, looking up at Edward with wide eyes. That dude was a completely different sentence than the first.

Edward shifted his feet. "Hey, when it comes to going nerd, I go big." He shifted again. "It's too much." He reached for the owl.

Emmett took a quick step back, yanking his arms in the other direction. "Hell no. This is awesome." He laughed, his face lighting up with that huge grin. "I thought about it before, you know? What would have happened if an owl popped by the group home I was in when I was eleven?"

"I mean...let's get real. You seem like the type who would have been in the Forbidden Forest the very first day of school."

"Right." Emmett snorted. "Even if I made it through the school year, there's no way I wouldn't have done magic during the summer. I'd have gotten my ass expelled." His grin grew wider. "Just like in real life. So I guess it was juvenile delinquency for me regardless."

"But with magic."

"Christ, can you imagine the trouble I could have gotten into with a little bit of magic?"

"I don't know what kind of trouble you got into without magic."

Emmett blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly, and Edward could have smacked himself. "It's not my business. I—"

"No." Emmett laughed, his expression turned easy-going again in a heartbeat. "Sometimes I forget we don't really know each other." He shrugged. "Little of this, little of that. Shoplifting. Fighting. I didn't start them, by the way. You know. Mostly." He cocked his head. "But if I had magic, I can think of a person or two I would have blown up Aunt Marge style. Oh, man. That would have been worth it."

"Ha. If there was magic, there's no way it would be a secret from Muggles. Can you imagine rush hour traffic?"

"Ah." Emmett shook a finger at him. "But wizards can apparate. Or travel via fireplace."

"Right, but in real life, I highly doubt Muggles and wizards would be so separated. Like what if you wanted to go to Disneyland? You'd have to drive there just like everyone else. Wait in the same lines."

"Get the same road rage."

Edward nodded. "Except you actually could banish all the cars from the road. Or make them drive in different directions."

Emmett chuckled and grinned.

And Edward grinned back.

And when had they gotten this close to each other?

Edward cleared his throat and angled his body to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyway. If you're not scared off by the nerd-factor we might as well go for broke. I was wondering if you'd been sorted yet."

"What?"

"You know. Sorted into your house. On Pottermore."

"And Pottermore is…?"

"A website. The official website of the Potter world. You can get sorted into your house. Get a wand. Virtual wand, but you know—phoenix feather, unicorn hair, what kind of wood, ten inches and swishy, etc."

Emmett's eyebrows shot up and his lip twitched. "Ten inches and what?"

Lightning shot down Edward's spine. "The wand." His voice came out just a little bit scratchy. "How long your wand is. And how, uh, flexible."

Emmett's lip twitched again. "Uh huh."

Edward cleared his throat. "You can find out what your Patronus would be."

"Dude," Emmett said, this time reverently.

Edward gestured with his chin to the computers. "Come on. I'll help you."

"You're just going to ditch work, huh?" Emmett teased, but he followed him.

"Helping people on the computers is part of my job."

 _ **~0~**_

Twenty minutes later, Emmett had been sorted into Gryffindor and had found out his patronus was a bear.

"That's awesome. I love bears." He cackled. "Oh, shit. I mean. Not like _those_ bears. Though there's nothing wrong with a big, hairy hunk of man." He stood up. "I mean, I like bears." He lifted his shirt. "See?"

Edward almost bit his tongue. Yeah. He saw.

He saw abs for days. And hard, firm pecs. And—

"Here." Emmett sounded amused. He pointed at his side.

"Oh." Edward's cheeks were hot. Actually, Edward's everything felt hot. He was hot. And bothered.

He shook his head hard. Emmett was trying to show him something. Right.

A tattoo. "It's a bear," he said helpfully.

"Yeah. I love bears." Emmett lowered his shirt. Slowly.

"Yeah. You said that."

"There's just something about them."

"Strong," Edward said. "Powerful." Apparently, he was speaking in one word sentences now. He swallowed hard. "I have to, uh… Work. I'll see you tomorrow for the…" He waved his hand helplessly. "Thing." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay. Bye."

"I thought you were working," Emmett called after him sounding amused.

Edward had the strangest impulse to turn around and stick his tongue out.

What the hell was wrong with him?

* * *

 **A/N: Party next chapter. Wands will be discussed. *innocent whistles***


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: My dudes. Time is FLYING by. I'm so sorry. Emmett and Eddo wouldn't cooperate for a hot minute there.**

 **I wanted to take a sec to thank you guys for voting for me in the Fandom Awards. That this little fic won is incredible to me.**

 **Mwah.**

 **Now. On to the viewing party.**

* * *

When Emmett finally knocked on his door, Edward actually jumped. He rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth gone dry. Somehow, he was both out of his mind nervous and strangely giddy all at once.

A boy was coming to his house. To see him. Whee. Hot boys. Woo. Those abs, though.

An obscenely muscular man was coming to his house. He was bigger than Edward. Broader. Taller. As much as that, admittedly, turned him on, he also couldn't deny he was vulnerable—a vulnerability that had been made viciously, horribly clear once before.

He was scared.

Which was probably why he answered the door with, "My sister knows you're here."

Emmett blinked at him. Edward huffed. Closed his eyes tightly. Opened them again and attempted a smile. "Sorry. Can we try that again?"

"That depends. Can I ask you a question?" Emmett's eyes were doing this weird thing, kind of roaming up and down, not in a lascivious way but as though he were trying to keep them from going wide. His lips quirked, and he grinned—one of his huge grins full of teeth. "Are you wearing a robe?"

Though he knew damn well what he was wearing, being the one who'd put it on that day, Edward looked down at himself. He looked back up and arched an eyebrow. "If I said no…"

Emmett's grin only widened. "Dude. That's an honest-to-god Ravenclaw robe."

"And the matching tie." Edward opened the robe to reveal what he was wearing beneath—an approximation of the Hogwarts school uniform as depicted by the movie. "I got you one." He offered Emmett a tie with Gryffindor colors.

The man stared at him for two heavy beats and then giggled—straight up giggled—and ducked his head. "My head just went in two separate directions there. First, there's got to be some crack about you opening your robes for me. And pulling out ties? I mean, are you going to start calling me sir again, because that would really complete the picture."

Edward's throat went dry and he had to swallow several times, choking on a small laugh as he did. "Christ. You have a lot of domination fantasies."

"Well, when you spend a lot of time around handcuffs…"

Edward closed his eyes, swallowing whatever maniacal sound he'd been about to make. "What's the other direction?"

"What?"

He opened his eyes. He was startled to find Emmett so close. Again. He was leaning in. And Edward realized belatedly he was too. His eyes lingered on Emmett's lips for a beat too long. "The other direction. That your head went in."

Emmett blinked, obviously confused. "Oh. Right." He reached out, taking the maroon and gold tie from Edward's hands. Their fingers brushed and the air between them seemed alive with energy. Emmett's smile turned gentle. "Just...you're kind of adorable, dude."

"Adorable," Edward said under his breath. Part of him balked. Sexy. Hotter than sin. Lickable. That was what he was used to when he was interested.

But he wasn't interested. Really.

And, for whatever reason, the way this particular man said the word didn't sound condescending or emasculating. That giddiness he'd felt moments before bubbled up again making him want to smile. Or giggle.

"Adorable," Emmett repeated, his tone soft and his head tilted down. He passed the tie through his fingers. "Can't just watch a movie. You have to do it up right."

"Yeah, um." He shrugged. "If you'd been able to go to the thing, you'd have seen a lot of people in costumes."

"Right."

"Right."

Emmett shifted. "So. We going to do this thing or…"

Edward furrowed his brow. "Oh." He stepped backward, realizing that he had to let the other man into his house if they were going to watch the movie.

He was still on edge as he showed Emmett inside. An appropriate analogy when his adrenaline was pumping, filling him with both nerves and excitement. His mind was a chaotic mess, fear twisting in his gut and whispering urgent warnings. All the while, he was trying to tell himself to calm the hell down. Maybe he was attracted to Emmett, and that was part of why he was so tangled up in knots—the muscle memory of what happened the last time he was attracted to someone mixing with all the things that happened when he was on the hunt. But none of that was the point of this.

They were just going to watch a movie, for fuck's sake.

A movie full of eleven-year-old kids.

Nothing sexy was going on here.

There was nothing sexy about how his pretty blue eyes lit up at the sight of the decorations and goodies Edward had prepared. The cute little dance he did wasn't adorable either.

There was nothing sexy about the way his big hands, which should have been so clumsy, worked deftly to tie the tie Edward give him at his neck. There was definitely nothing at all attractive about the way it hung over his chest and his form-fitting, muscle-hugging, black t-shirt.

There was nothing sexy about the giddy little noise Emmett made when the movie's signature theme played and the words Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone appeared on the screen.

Edward had made Emmett a wand. There was definitely nothing sexy about what a gigantic nerd Emmett was, waving the thing around every time someone on screen did.

Whatever it was supposed to be didn't change the fact that Edward was on the edge of his seat, and it had nothing to do with the movie.

As was natural when introducing someone to something you loved dearly, Edward kept watching Emmett watch the movie. It was always gratifying to see a friend enjoying something you enjoyed, and introducing someone to something as epic as Harry Potter for the first time was a real treat. But Edward couldn't deny he got more than simple satisfaction watching the enjoyment on Emmett's face. His grin of wonder did things to his face that made Edward's heart pound just a little faster.

Emmett was a talker, as could be predicted. He was also a jumper—he jumped out of his seat, waving his hands around at the slightest provocation.

Twitterpated. Edward was twitterpated. The man was adorable and… Well. Whatever.

"Dude. Malfoy is such a little bitch," Emmett muttered, shaking his head at the screen.

"Mmhmm." Edward was distracted. Some minutes before, Emmett had begun absently stroking his wand. He held it at crotch level, which was especially unfair, and ran the pads of two fingers up, down, up, around, down—so slowly. Edward found himself mesmerized, watching the journey Emmett's fingers took over and over and over.

Until a thrill went down his spine—electricity sparked at the onslaught of a vivid fantasy. Emmett's fingers on his—

"Are you okay?"

Edward nearly jumped out of his skin. "Wha—" His heart had leapt into his throat, and he coughed into his hand. "What?"

"You made a weird noise. Sounded like you were in pain." Emmett looked concerned.

"Pain." Edward turned the word over in his head as though he didn't know what it meant. Truth be told, he was so distracted, Emmett's words weren't coalescing into intelligible speech. Just noise. Sound.

Emmett was missing Harry's introduction to Quidditch, and that was unacceptable. Some part of him was actually concerned with this fact.

On the other hand, his goddamn skin was prickly. He was just so _aware_ of this man. His face was too hot, and his blood pumped loudly in his ears. His breath came too quickly. He was going out of his mind.

"You have to watch this part. It's important," he snapped, getting to this feet. "I'm…" He huffed and shook his head. "I'm going to… I have to get something."

With that, he all but dashed to the sanctity of the kitchen. He stood with his back to the door, rubbing his neck and making a wreck of his hair, trying to find his sanity again.

Before he could, the air around him changed. He felt Emmett's presence though the other man hadn't made a sound. He knew without having to look that he was in the doorway, filling that space. His heartbeat picked up. Some distant part of him recognized he was trapped now. His nerves spiked with anticipation.

His gut twisted with fear.

He swallowed hard and turned. For one beat, two, he only stared. There had to be some way to explain why he'd just snapped at him like a lunatic. But even if he'd found a reasonable excuse, it all would have slipped away. At the sight of him leaning into the room, his arms propped on either side of the doorway, Edward would have lost the ability to word.

One look, and Edward could see Emmett knew. Attraction and desire sparked all around them, almost physical entities in the small space. This wasn't a "just friends" scenario, and they both knew it.

Edward's control snapped. He crossed the kitchen in three strides, twisted Emmett's tie in one hand and pulled the man to him. He spread his other hand wide over Emmett's chest and pushed forward onto the balls of his feet. He was relatively tall. It was a novel sensation to have to tilt his head up.

He liked it.

Emmett's lips tasted like butterbeer.

This was no soft, sweet kiss for either of them. Emmett's hand was possessive, pressing against the small of Edward's back, under his robe, and bringing him closer. One kiss turned into two. Three. Four. Hungry kisses like gasps of air. Breathing never felt as good as it did to someone had had been drowning and finally broke the surface. Edward hadn't realized he was in such need until he couldn't get enough of the way Emmett's mouth moved; the way his body felt under his hands and against his chest.

Emmett groaned, pulling back just enough. He panted. They were both breathless. "Fuuucck," Emmett said. The word came out as a gravelly rumble that vibrated against Edward's lips.

"Fuck," Edward agreed. His hands, seeking more, skimmed along Emmett's chest, back to his neck and tangled in his curly hair. He pulled the man to him again, not even close to sated.

Without breaking the kiss, Emmett walked Edward backward until they reached wall. He caged him in then, one arm on either side of his head, his large body pressing and engulfing.

Anxiety spiked like being dunked in ice water direct from a sauna. Fear. Confusion. Anger. It overtook everything else, everything good.

Edward turned his head, breaking the kiss. "Get off," he hissed between clenched teeth. His hands, on Emmett's shoulders now, pushed him away roughly.

To his credit, Emmett backed off instantaneously. He raised his hands up where Edward could see them and didn't say a word.

For a minute, they both stared at each other, the sound of their too-quick breaths in tandem the only noise in the room. Emmett lowered his hands slowly, as though he thought quick movement might startle Edward, and licked his lips.

The worst of the anxiety faded quickly enough, leaving embarrassment in its wake. Edward ducked his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Scared. Turned on. Angry. Resigned.

He was discombobulated.

"Hey." Emmett's voice was gentle, and when Edward summoned the courage to open his eyes, the man's smile was genuine. "You took the controller with you, and I need to rewind." He winked. "Apparently, I _need_ to see that scene. It's important."

Edward exhaled in a gust and laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah." He nodded, coming back to himself. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: Heeeeeyyy. It's ME. There's gotta be SOME drama.**


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hello, my beautiful ducks. I want to thank you for your continued patience as I try to manage work, mom-life and writing.

I'd also like to remind you guys that this is a drabbly-fic. Hehe.

* * *

Emmett didn't come back to the library. It had been over a week.

Well, what had he expected? He'd been a basketcase that weekend. He found Emmett so easy to talk to, he'd hoped it would keep him in the moment. No such luck. He was going out of his skin the whole time. Add to that the complication of his attraction…

It had to be annoying. Emmett was clearly trying to stay out of trouble. That was why he spent all his free time in a library. He was also a red-blooded, at-least-bi male who, Edward was guessing, hadn't had access to good sex in awhile. Edward wasn't oblivious to the fact he was attractive to most gay men. He had an interesting and handsome face, an ass that wouldn't quit, and long, nimble fingers. Emmett had made every effort to respect his boundaries. The mixed signals he'd been throwing—terror mixed with "take me up against the counter"— had to be frustrating.

Seriously. Was he incapable of just being friends with a sexy man? How hard was it to watch a movie without getting all...whatever he'd been that weekend?

The library was quiet. Edward sat at the checkout desk, a book open in front of him, but he wasn't reading. He was turning the whole situation over in his head, wishing something was different. He missed the world's literal biggest Potterhead more than he wanted to admit. And he regretted driving him from what he thought must have been one of the few safe havens the man had.

A brush of something against his head made Edward jump up. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at. A Mylar balloon in the shape of a star, floating low as though it was a few days old, was in front of his face. Taped to it was a picture of an owl.

He heard a disembodied cackle and a grin spread wide across his face. He knew that sound.

But rather than search Emmett out, he let himself be distracted by the envelope stuck to the bottom of the balloon. He detached it, opened it, and laughed.

Do you like me? Check one: Yes/No.

They'd both said this felt like grade school, after all.

Emmett appeared from behind the wall of the check out desk. "I'm not as good of an artist as you so this was as good as I could do." He tapped the printed picture.

Edward was smitten. It was a picture of an owl with its weirdly long legs exposed. And it was angry about it.

Their eyes met and, in that look, Edward felt the change between them. He understood what Emmett was really asking with his little note.

Remain friends or figure out how to be more?

He took the pen from behind his ear. His cheeks flamed hot. But he checked yes.

"Phew." Emmett said with a little chuckle. He grinned.

Edward grinned back. "Where have you been?"

Emmett's grin got even brighter. "Got a job. Red Robin's hires felons. Plus, free burgers." His expression gentled. "I get paid in a few days. How about maybe we go out for coffee?" He paused a beat. "And maybe you can tell me why you don't date?"

Edward's grin fell. His throat got tight, and he breathed in through his nose. Yeah. He was going to have to deal with that.

But looking at the kind-hearted ex-con, he thought it might be worth it.

He nodded. "Coffee it is."

* * *

A/N: Back soon!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Please feel free to PM me if you have concerns before continuing. There's nothing at all graphic here.**

* * *

Emmett ordered two drinks for himself. Edward watched, bemused as he sipped from the extra large matcha latte, but kept his cup of cappuccino cradled between his hands. The strangest smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked down on the otherwise untouched cup.

"Are your hands cold?" Edward asked.

"Why?" Emmett looked up, his lips stretching wide into that wicked grin that sent delicious shivers down Edward's spine. "Are you going to offer to warm them up for me?"

Edward flushed, but kept his smirk in check. He could have let the conversation take a dirty turn, but it caught him by surprise that his first thought wasn't filthy at all. The idea of holding Emmett's hand, so tame in comparison to some of the other wayward thoughts he'd had, appealed. Greatly. So greatly, in fact, that his fingers twitched. It would take nothing to reach across the table and pull his hands away from the cup.

Obviously not expecting an answer, Emmett sighed. He looked down as though considering the cappuccino with a more serious expression. "I don't like coffee. Since I got out, I mean. Which is weird, because prison coffee… It wasn't that bad." He shrugged. "Maybe that's why. Who knows. Psychology is weird, right? Coffee was one of the few things I could enjoy for years, so now, I don't want it anymore. The taste of coffee, even this foo-foo stuff, puts me back there."

"Then why order it?"

Again, Emmett grinned. He tilted the cup toward Edward. "It's a panda bear. A foam panda bear. I've never had coffee with art in it. Hell, I've never had coffee with foam in it. It feels fancy." Another shrug, and he looked sheepish. "It's lame, right? It just feels like, if I can afford something as fancy as foam art in my coffee, I'm going to be okay. I know it's really a stupid waste of money—"

"It's not." It struck Edward yet again how precarious Emmett's situation was, and how different his perspective. "It's the simple pleasures in life. Makes perfect sense to me." Simple things like Harry Potter and gentle giants lounging in his library.

Edward sighed, because the pleasures he wanted were much more complicated. But those not-so-simple pleasures could be good too. He knew that. It was why he was here. It was why he was going to have a conversation he very much didn't want to have. He closed his eyes, taking a long, soothing sip of his hot mocha.

"It's not complicated. Why I don't date." He spun his cup around and around in his hands. "I did. Tinder regular. I did the hookup thing for a while. And that was fine. It was all fine. Then, I decided I wanted to date. I thought it would be nice to find something more serious, more solid."

Despite the coffee, his throat had gone dry. He swallowed hard. "The first guy was a jerk. Nothing horrible. He was just a jackass. The second guy…" He swallowed again. His throat was beginning to close off. He huffed out a laugh. "It was a guy I'd gotten along with in a group situation before. Our mutual friend set us up, so he knew… He knew…" Edward shook his head hard. His heart was beginning to beat fast.

And then, Emmett's hand was there over his, stopping the shaky back and forth movement of his coffee cup. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."

Edward took a deep breath and blew it out again slowly. "Nothing happened. Not really. He was too handsy. He knew I wanted something more serious, but he kept trying to push me into something physical, because he knew I'd fooled around before." He swallowed hard. "And when I went to the bathroom at this wine and tapas bar we were at, he followed me."

"Mother fucker," Emmett said low under his breath. He sounded dangerous, but Edward knew who his anger was aimed at. Despite his residual tremors, he was more furious than scared, even if his body refused to fall in line with his thoughts.

"Nothing happened," Edward said again. "I don't know what the hell was wrong with him. It was a wine bar, not a club. But it was…He was…" His fingers flexed around Emmett's, squeezing hard, trying to ground himself. "I'm not a weak person. I work out. I'm strong. I'm a strong man." He emphasized the last word. "And I know that's not fair. I know how stupid this is to say out loud. It's just...men don't have to worry about that, right? When we date? We don't worry about getting cornered by someone stronger. About not being able to get away." Shame burned in him. "I had to be rescued by the owner. He heard all the shouting." He breathed in and out evenly. "Nothing happened." If he kept repeating it, maybe he could get his paranoid brain to accept it. "I guess I haven't gotten over the fact it could have."

Emmett's thumbs ran soothing circles over Edward's knuckles. "I get that."

Edward huffed. "Come on."

"I know I'm a big guy and it doesn't look like anything could happen to me, but dude, what's prison most famous for?" Emmett's grin was dark and entirely without humor.

"Oh, god." Edward's stomach churned, and the blood drained from his face. "I didn't—"

"Nothing happened," Emmett said quickly. He shifted in his seat, his face gone as pale as Edward's felt. "It's… I mean, again, I know I don't get to feel sorry for myself. I did what I did. I wasn't innocent. But prison is...hell, man. Some of the guys in there are so angry, and it's got nowhere else to go." He shook his head. "It's not about strength; just opportunity. I was lucky; that's all. Lucky and hyper-vigilant, which doesn't make me smarter than you." He rolled his eyes. "Talk about put yourself in that position, right?"

"No one puts themselves in that position," Edward said firmly. "And whatever you did, you don't deserve that."

"Yeah."

After that heaviness, they made light conversation. Neither of them spoke about the elephant in the room, the would they or wouldn't they, but their fingers would brush occasionally.

The way Emmett looked at him—a little mischievous, a little hungry—hadn't changed. Most of Edward had known it wouldn't, but hell. What he'd been through on his last date had changed the way he looked at himself in ways he didn't like to think about.

When they got up to leave, as they exited the coffee shop, Emmett wrapped a hand around Edward's. He tugged him close. So close. Edward was startled to find himself in his orbit, so he could feel the heat of his body. Emmett took his face in his hands with such incredible tenderness, Edward's heart skipped a beat. His breath caught, and his mind went blank as Emmett's eyes found his.

"So, uh… so far, you're my favorite thing about having my freedom back. I like you. Like you for all the you things." He rubbed a thumb over Edward's lips. "And you're hot. Ridiculously hot. Like, damn, dude."

Edward made a noise that might have been a laugh. He was still struck, unable to find his words.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Emmett continued. "Some of the things I think about with you? The things I want with you? Hard. Fast. Deep. That all comes to mind."

Edward's mouth went dry, and he swallowed a little groan.

"But slow?" Emmett leaned forward and brushed his lips so gently against his. "Soft? I can do that. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. I can do that." He cupped the back of Edward's neck. "If you want."

"I want," Edward said, his voice raw.

"Well, hot damn." Emmett winked, and Edward laughed, and then, Emmett was kissing him, swallowing the sound. It wasn't soft, but it wasn't hard. It wasn't too sweet, but it wasn't too fevered.

It was a good kiss.

The start of something good.

* * *

 **A/N: That turned out well, no?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: And we're back!**

 **I want to thank you all for your patience.**

* * *

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I respect the world the author has created. Obviously she did something right to create such a phenomenon."

Edward scoffed. "Literary phenomena aren't necessarily indicative of an author doing something right."

Emmett blinked. "Dude. Don't talk about dicks in a library. Who raised you?"

"I didn't…" Edward's cheeks flamed. He palmed his forehead and somehow resisted the urge to kiss the hell out of his boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

"Anyway." Edward moved his hand in a go on gesture.

"Anyway. All I'm saying is, I wish she would rewrite it just a little bit. Make those kids real teenagers. Give me a break. Teenagers with that little supervision, at stay-away school and access to magic? I could think of a few things I could do with the engorgio spell, and that's just for starters."

"Ah, well." Edward concentrated very hard on sorting the books on the cart in front of him. This really wasn't the time to think about the tight jeans Emmett had on today and how, if he let himself stare, he was pretty sure he could see the outline of…

Anyway. Engorgio indeed.

"I have to… shelve," he blurted, jerking the cart forward.

Emmett fell into step beside him, his grin devilish as usual. "You're ready to shelve, huh?"

"Yep. Big part of my job."

"Uh huh. But that big stack of books on the desk? The ones you were sorting? Those don't need to be shelved?"

Edward pressed his lips together. This man made it really hard to concentrate. "They're for a new display."

"Uh huh." Emmett waited a beat as Edward stewed in how full of shit he was before he continued talking as if he hadn't just been a gigantic brat. "And if she'd actually let the gay kids have some representation. Think about that."

"What? Orgies in the common rooms?"

"Edward." Emmett sounded scandalized. "What the hell kind of dirty mind do you have?"

His blush deepend. He just shook his head and walked faster toward the furthest end of the library. Emmett kept up with him easily and, thankfully, pitched his voice low.

" _All_ of the kids in each house? At once? Think of the mess. Those poor house elves. They're going to be all sticky."

Edward stopped in his tracks. He let the words percolate and then made some kind of weird, high-pitched giggle. He slapped a hand over his mouth and then slumped over the cart, his shoulders shaking in silent, deranged laughter.

He felt rather than saw Emmett step closer. "I was thinking...four same sex teenagers to a room… those big beds with the curtains… I'm just saying." His hand pressed lightly against Edward's back. "Fun times being had at Hogwarts, am I right?"

"Yeah." Edward swallowed hard. He straightened up but didn't turn around.

"So, hey. I have a question." Emmett was standing so close his voice vibrated near Edward's ear.

"What's that?" Edward searched for something to do with his hands, but he realized belatedly he had no books to put away back here. He shuffled the books on his cart instead.

Emmett's hand stroked along his side, barely touching him. "You ever mess around in a library?"

"Why?" The word came out as a rasp, and Edward still didn't turn.

"Who doesn't have a hot librarian fantasy?"

Edward turned slightly, just enough so he could look Emmett in the eyes. He arched an eyebrow. The other man grinned back unapologetically. "Everyone has a librarian fantasy growing up. So if you are the librarian…" He inched ever closer, ducking his head, swallowing what little space existed between them. "You going to tell me you've never had someone back here, pressed up against the bookshelf?

He didn't answer right away, instead letting his eyes roam the length of Emmett's body. He shivered, letting himself revel for a few moments in the picture he painted. His gaze lingered on Emmett's lips, and the man's cocksure expression faltered just a little. He made a tiny noise at the back of his throat—a little groan.

Edward let his eyes finally flick up to Emmett's. "You know… I'm working. This is my place of business, not a porn set."

Emmett blinked. He took two stumbling steps backward. "Hey, man. I'm sorry. You're right. That's unprofessional as—"

Edward laughed. He caught Emmett by the wrist before the man could get any further away. He surged forward, catching Emmett by surprise as he pinned him backward against the shelf. Snaking fingers through his curly hair, he kissed him.

* * *

 **A/N: I know, I know. Just a little bit of fun.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello, my duckies!**

* * *

This. This right here.

There was nothing wrong with a hookup—enjoying sex, pleasure...soft skin over firm muscle. But this…In all the goodness of a quick hook up, there was no time for this. The slow, sweet smolder of deep kisses.

This was so unprofessional. Making out between the stacks. One foot wasn't even on the ground, for fuck's sake. And when had that happened? His leg was hitched up around Emmett's waist.

Slow. Emmett had promised to take it slow. It was what Edward needed. He knew it. He swore he understood. This wasn't some misguided machismo thing. He really knew slow was the way to go.

Trouble was, Emmett was damn good at slow. Too damn good.

He was good at touching. When he'd come in today, he'd crept closer and closer. He was smooth about it—talking nonstop about the twists and turns the later Harry Potter books took. Then Edward turned around to find him in his personal space, so close he swore he could feel the lines of the other man's body on his though they weren't touching.

Edward had never wanted contact so badly before in his life. Emmett had known it too. He kept talking about Draco Fucking Malfoy while he did this thing with his fingers, kind of wiggling them near Edward's hand without actually touching. It was remarkably erotic-feeling the impression of movement against his skin.

And then, Edward might have decided the books in the far corner of the library needed his attention. Again. Just in case.

But when he'd attempted to push Emmett up against the bookcase, the man had-oh so carefully-taken hold of his face, cupping it between both of his massive hands. He'd smiled-a happy little grin that made Edward's heart trip-and then he'd kissed him. Sweetly. Just a lingering brush of his lips. Every time Edward pushed forward, wanting, needing more, just more, Emmett would pull back just a little.

Only when Edward relaxed, let the aggression flow out of him as he melted against Emmett's firm, warm body, did the other man give him what he wanted. He wrapped Edward up in his arms, his hands pressing and caressing. He nipped at his lips and kissed him-slow, serious kisses that only deepened as minutes passed.

Edward leaned all the way back against the bookshelf, letting the full weight of Emmett's body press up against him.

It was good. And as crazy as it drove him, he knew slow was what he needed. Slow and easy so his psyche could catch up to what his mind already knew.

Big, imposing, strong bodies could be good. So. So. So good.

"Excuse me. Just what do you think you're doing? This is a _library_."

Edward and Emmett flew apart. Edward's cheeks flamed. He rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth open to apologize profusely when he realized who'd interrupted them.

Bella was doubled over laughing, one hand wrapped around her belly. Edward let out a huff of air and shook his head. "Jeez. What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" Bella straightened up, hands on her hips. "You're the one defiling the self-help section."

Emmett reached passed Edward and plucked a random book from the shelf. "Edward was just helping me with a book I needed." He looked down and laughed, clunking his head against the shelf.

How to be Handy: Hairy Bottom Not Required by Ian Anderson.

Edward palmed his forehead.

"I see what happened now," Bella said, nodding seriously. "You mistook it for a book titled How to be Handsy."

Emmett straightened up and pointed at her. "I like you."

Edward sighed. "Em, this is Bella. I know you spoke to her a few times when you needed headphones, but she's been wanting me to introduce you as a friend." He glared at her. "Though I'm reconsidering this being friends with my interns thing in her case."

"Oh, don't lie," Bella said. "You know you wish you were straight so you could love me even more." She offered Emmett her hand. "Nice to meet you, tall, tattooed nerd."

Emmett huffed and shook her hand. "Back atcha short, spiky nerd. How's life treating you today?"

Bella put on a sigh. "Well. As you mentioned, I'm short, short, short. And one of my jobs is to dust the very top of the bookshelves." She pointed far above her head.

"The top? Like… where there are no books and no one can see?" Emmett looked at Edward, puzzled. "You make her dust the tops of the shelves?"

"No." Edward shook his head, arching an eyebrow at Bella. "She's trying to get you to offer to let her borrow your shoulders. She has suggested on more than one occasion that she'd like to quote, 'climb you like a tree.'"

Bella batted her eyelashes.

Emmett guffawed. "You want to pretend you're riding a broom, right?"

"Among other things." Bella winked.

"Oh, I really like you." He turned and crouched. "Let's do this."

Bella gave a squeak of delight and wasted no time clambering up. She was settled on Emmett's shoulders almost before Edward could blink.

"Hey," Edward called after them as they took off. "This is a library!"

* * *

 **A/N: Much love! Mwah.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey, all! Thanks for your patience. I jetted off to Italy, Greece, and one stop in Turkey for a little bit.**

 **Let's get to it.**

* * *

Bella was going to kill him.

In his own defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Bella and Emmett hit it off in a big way, and it felt like a no brainer to invite her to their Harry Potter viewing. They were on the third movie, The Prisoner of Azkaban. It was Bella's favorite because her favorite ship—the characters she thought should be in a relationship—got the most screen time in that film. It should have been fun. She would get all mooney-eyed (pun intended) over Remus and Sirius, and he would remind her about Tonks. He strongly suspected Emmett would call them both ridiculous.

Bella had asked him a thousand times if he was sure he wanted her to crash their party. "I don't want to be a third wheel to your grope fest."

He'd given her a look. "Of the two of us, I'm not the one who gets all hot and bothered by two shaggy men not getting it on."

"I already told you. It's not a hot and bothered thing. It's profound, dammit. It's a beautiful story."

And, in the beginning, all had been well. Emmett and Bella bickered good-naturedly like they'd been friends forever. As Edward suspected, Emmett was having a field day with the idea of non-canon shipping.

"So...let me get this straight. An author creates these characters, is the god and emperor of her world… and you come along and say, naw. Your version? Nope. You got it wrong. This is what you should have written. Like if I wrote an epic love story between a guy and a girl, are you going to 'ship' him with his adopted brother instead? That's just weird. Who would do that?"

But then they'd gotten down to the business of watching the movie, and that was when things went south. Specifically, Emmett's fingers. They went south.

It was innocent at first—a gentle, absent tap against his knee. It was sweet; as though Emmett simply liked the contact, that fact he could touch Edward. His eyes were on the screen, and his commentary had been on point.

"See, this is where the believability of the movie goes out the window," Emmett said, pointing at the mugshot of the movie's supposed villain, Sirius Black, as it flashed on the screen. As with all wizard photographs, the picture was moving, showing Black screaming. "How is that believable? No one stands there, holding their little chalkboard, and just screams. That would be awkward."

But, slowly, Edward's concentration slipped away. He was distracted, his thoughts wandering as Emmett's fingers did.

Well, no. He supposed that wasn't accurate. He wasn't thinking so much as existing in a state of heightened awareness. Emmett's fingers traced trails of fire and lightning along his skin.

He was programmed, he realized. These last few weeks, his body had become attuned to Emmett's touch. Wasn't that the point of taking it so, so slow? The sight of the man brought on a sensual sensation, making Edward's cheeks turn pink and his mind cloud over with a sense of anticipation. His gun-shy psyche had found its confidence again. After weeks of extended foreplay, it was ready. He was ready.

Timing.

But Edward was a grown man. He'd have said he could keep his libido in check, but he was beginning to think that just wasn't the case. Not when Emmett's fingers skimmed over him, over his clothes, titillating and tantalizing. He traced the inside of Edward's arm, brushed his fingertips, teased along his thigh.

They were both ready—with teasing, done with slow, done with waiting. Edward didn't need to hear Emmett say the words to know they were on the same page. They were ready, and it was in the air between them. It made Edward wiggle in his seat. He rubbed the back of his neck, digging fingernails into flesh to keep himself from returning Emmett's not-so-innocent touch. He didn't trust himself to touch Emmett without taking everything he wanted.

And Bella was going to kill him.

"Okay," she said, grabbing the controller from the table and stopping the movie. "The house of Potter shouldn't be disrespected. We need to watch this when you're actually going to remember what happened."

Edward went through the motions of protesting, and apologized profusely the whole way as he walked her to the door. She ruffled his hair. "If I'd waited any longer, I'd have to swim out of the sexual tension in there. Christ. Let's try again when you're fit to be around civilized people."

"We're civilized."

Bella smirked. "Well, you shouldn't be. That's what the beginning of relationships are for. Now's the time for the hanging from the ceiling monkey loving."

"Hanging off the…" Edward's cheeks flamed. "What's wrong with you? You read too much fanfiction."

"Be safe," Bella sing-songed, waggling her fingers at him. "Getting pregnant right now is th last thing you need. And don't forget I exist when you're done with all the wild monkey love. I had you first, Cullen."

Edward pushed the door closed, shaking his head and muttering to himself. He turned around and stopped short, finding Emmett staring at him from the entryway. He cocked his head, struck by the sight of him—all muscles and tattoos and that bratty, bratty look. Edward took a step forward. "What?"

"It's not such a bad idea, that's all. Sounds like fun."

Edward took another few steps toward him. "What does?"

"Monkey love." Emmett jumped up and hung from the entryway to the living room.

"What are you… The hell?" Edward sputtered around a laugh. "Are you holding onto like an inch of crown molding?"

"Is that what you care about right now?" Emmett swung his legs out, wrapping them around Edward and bringing him forward. "Com'ere."

Shaking his head, Edward pushed onto his tiptoes and took Emmett's lips.

Emmett let out a muffled groan that vibrated through Edward's bloodstream, down to his groin. He gasped into Emmett's mouth as the other man wrapped his legs tighter around him and lifted him off the ground an inch or two.

He was strong.

And good.

And Edward wanted…

He just wanted.

He broke their kiss, breathless, and put his feet back on the ground. "I can think of better things to do with your hands," he said, his voice husky.

"Hell, yes." Emmett dropped down, wrapped his arms around Edward, and pulled him into the living room, their mouths already connected.

* * *

A/N: Next chappy really soon. Fun times ahead.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: My ducks!**

 **What can I say except thanks for sticking with me.**

* * *

Edward couldn't remember a time he'd been so relaxed. Fucked boneless. He thought he'd heard the term somewhere. Maybe read it in a book. Now, he knew it was no flight of fancy. His bones had turned warm and liquid. His brain was in much the same state. It had been a solid ten minutes since he'd finally caught his breath and coherent thought had yet to return to him.

He lay face down on his bed, his head cradled in his arms. If there was a chill in the room, his warm, pliant body hadn't registered it. He was lost to the sensation of fingers skimming along his bare skin.

Grinning, he rolled his head to the side. His smile fell into something gentler when he saw the look on Emmett's face. It was such a serene, tender expression. Edward was struck breathless as a thought sunk into him. This man adored him; it was written all over his face.

And that was…

Wow.

Emmett's fingers trailed up to his hair. Edward's eyes about rolled up into his head. There wasn't much better than the feeling of being stroked, petted—his hair carefully tousled. He was so content. Happy.

There was no trace of annoyance in his voice when he finally remembered how to word. "You know… I'm not fragile."

Emmett's fingers stilled from where he'd been tracing lazy circles behind Edward's ear. He furrowed his brow. "What?" He rolled onto his back, an arm behind his head.

"I know we've had to take it slow." Edward rolled onto his side. He was momentarily distracted, his eyes drawn to the lines of Emmett's body and the tattoos decorating his skin. He was so damn beautiful. The tapestry of his skin still had so many stories left to be read.

Emmett snapped his fingers under Edward's chin, drawing his attention up. He smirked. "You were saying?"

Edward cleared his throat and winked, but when he spoke, his tone was serious. "You touched me like you thought I was going to break. I'm just saying, you don't have to do that." He splayed his hand over Emmett's chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his palm. "I trust you."

"Whoa." Emmett blinked, his eyes fathomless as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He chuckled—the sound uncharacteristically quiet. "I don't think anyone's ever said that to me about anything." He swallowed hard, reaching up to trace the line of Edward's jaw. "I take that seriously, you know? Your body… Yeah. That's big. It's a gift. Trust is a gift. I know that." His hand, so large and yet inexplicably tender, cupped Edward's cheek. "But thinking you're fragile? That's not why I touched you like that."

Edward's heart began to pound, his throat gone tight. "No?" he asked, his tone gone gravelly.

"No." Emmett shifted, taking him by the waist. In a swift movement, Edward found himself on his back, surrounded with Emmett's arms and knees on either side of him. The other man leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before straightening up. He pressed a thumb to Edward's lips. "You're precious."

Emmett laughed again, and this time the sound was nervous. He rubbed the back of his head. "That's…uh, flowery. I'm not…" He huffed, rolling his eyes skyward. "I'm not good. With the words. And Harry Potter isn't exactly rife with romance, so it's not like I can steal those words."

"Shhhh." Edward's grin grew wide and he put a hand over Emmett's mouth. "You were doing okay until you started babbling. But the good news is, it sounded a lot like Harry trying to talk to Cho, so Harry Potter helped you after all."

"Well, maybe I'll ask you to the Yule Ball." He waggled his eyebrows, but his grin fell quickly. He looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey." Edward sat up. He tapped Emmett's knee. "You're not thinking about what you'd look like in Ron Weasley's dress robes, are you? Because you're right. It would be funny, and I'd have to laugh at you. Wait. No. You haven't seen that movie yet. No spoilers."

"Now who's babbling?" Emmett shook his head and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. "No, let me see if I can figure out how to say this."

He was quiet for a few seconds, stroking the back of Edward's neck as he thought. "Growing up in foster care… you don't have much, you know? You learn not to get attached. People. Stuff. You never know when you're going to have to move on. Or when some prick is going to destroy what little you have."

He met Edward's eyes, serious for once. "You were so pretty beneath me. And the way you looked at me…" He swallowed hard. "When I was a kid and there was something I wanted to keep, to protect, I came up with a plan." He laughed. "One time, a foster dad gave me a pocket knife for my birthday. Damn, I loved that thing. I didn't want to leave it to be found by this dick of a foster brother I had then, so I'd duct tape it to me. Course, they found it one day at school, and I got in all kinds of trouble. I'm always good at trouble."

He sighed and his smile then was more wistful. "I know who I am. What I am. I'm trying to be a better man, but I know it's an uphill battle. I'm probably never going to have a good, steady job. I'm probably never going to have much to offer. And you're a grown man. You can decide what's best for your own life. I can't strap you to me and make sure you stay." He shrugged, skimming his fingertips along Edward's cheek. "So I guess I tried to show you. You're… Yeah. Precious. That's just the word."

Edward's throat was so tight he had to swallow hard before he could speak. He wrapped his arms around Emmett's neck and kissed his chin, his nose, his lips. "You know what I think?"

"Hmm?" Emmett's fingers stroked up and down his back.

"I think you do just fine with the words."

* * *

 **A/N: Leave me some words. They help my words flow.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I was informed that it was not okay to graze over the lemon.**

 **Fiiiiiiinnnnneee.**

* * *

"There's something wrong with this picture."

Edward craned his neck, looking over where Emmett sat on top of the built-in counter. They were in his parents' garage so the workspace housed his massive frame comfortably. Edward had to smirk at the juxtaposition of the brick wall that was Emmett—covered in haphazard tattoos—against the backdrop of the wall-to-wall peg board, every tool his parents owned hung and orderly upon it.

"What's wrong with this?" Edward asked, turning back to the car engine in front of him. Emmett had finally earned enough to buy a junker of a car that would work fine for his purposes with just a few repairs.

"The ex-con is supposed to be the one with the mechanic experience, not the sweet girl with the heart of gold that he meets after he gets out who teaches him how to be good again."

Edward turned his head to stare again. "Is your TV stuck on the Lifetime Network?" Again, he turned back to his task. "I didn't know prison had a mechanic school."

"Hah. Yeah, right. I guess I was supposed to have picked it up on all those Sunday afternoons I spent with my father."

Emmett's tone was light but the words had a deep impact on Edward. He had learned all he knew about cars from Sunday afternoons spent with his father.

But before he could dwell on the sad state of the world his boyfriend had grown up in versus the one he'd grown up in, he was distracted by the sense the world was getting tighter around him. It wasn't, as one might expect, a claustrophobic feeling. His nerves came alive, a heady sense of anticipation coming over him. His eyes drifted from the engine to the lip of the car—specifically on Emmett's hands coming to rest on either side of him, caging him in.

"What are you doing?" His voice came out husky.

"The scene is a little off." Emmett's voice was just as gravelly. "You're supposed to be topless."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. The bad boy mechanics are always topless. It's supposed to get the girl all hot and bothered. You know. Grease. Sweat." Emmett pulled Edward's shirt up and off. He splayed his hand low on Edwards's torso. "Yep. You may be lanky, but you got the bad boy mechanic abs."

"Em." The word came out as a moan as Emmett attacked his neck with his tongue and his lips. "We're at my parents' house for fuck's sake."

"And they said they'd be back in a couple hours." He nipped at Edward's skin. "And they live helpfully back from the main road."

"Holy damn." Edward straightened up, thus pressing his back against the other man's chest. "I thought you… ahh… I thought you wanted a working car."

Emmett reached past him and unhooked the strut so the hood came crashing shut. No sooner than it was down then he'd pushed Edward over it. His hands were everywhere, caressing and squeezing as his lips resumed their attack.

"You really can't blame me when you're out here saying words like lube," Emmett said, his voice a rumble near Edward's ear. "Jack." He rocked his hips up roughly against Edward's ass. "Piston."

"I didn't say any of those words." Edward helpfully unbuttoned his jeans so the other man could pull them down to puddle around his ankles.

"Details," Emmett said and got down to business.

Edward prided himself on being a meticulous planner and being prepared for most situations. However, when they'd set out for his parents' house that afternoon with the intention of sprucing up his new old car, Edward just hadn't thought he'd end up re-enacting a scene out of a mechanic porn fantasy.

Emmett was notoriously un-meticulous and unprepared except when it came to sex.

"Always be ready for sex," he'd said more than once. It wasn't the first time he'd been prepared with condoms and a mini tube of lube in his pocket.

Hence, it probably shouldn't have surprised Edward that he ended up over the hood of the car, legs spread wide as Emmett worked first his fingers and then his cock inside him.

A month before he would have been terrified to be in such a vulnerable position, his body pinned beneath a broader, taller, stronger man. But Emmett had worked hard to earn his trust.

It was hot—the fantasy, the slight thrill of being almost, kinda-sorta outside. The large, tattooed, non-mechanically inclined ex-bad boy holding him down and thrust, thrust, thrusting into him, saying his name with a ragged gasp.

Yeah.

Erotic. God damn. It was filthy.

And… good. Just so, so good.

* * *

 **A/N: Gee I hope they get dressed before Carlisle and Esme come home.**

 **Stay safe. See you soon.**


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